


Projection

by dire_quail



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: AIs having feelings, Backstory, Character Study, F/F, In the Beginning, Light Angst, Light Hope Character Study, Worldbuilding, late-night conversations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:20:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26131039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dire_quail/pseuds/dire_quail
Summary: Early in her time as She-Ra, Mara finds Light Hope reviewing an old memory. Light Hope winds up telling Mara rather more than she thinks she lets on.
Relationships: Light Hope/Mara (She-Ra)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 24





	Projection

**Author's Note:**

> I'm... obsessed with the idea of Mara's early days as She-Ra. I'm deeply sorry I haven't gotten to the smut yet lol.

Light Hope is reviewing footage of a past charge in battle. It’s late at night, but this is no matter to her. She does not need to sleep. 

“Andra.” Mara’s voice comes from the doorway, naming the woman in the memory, who preceded her as She-Ra. 

Mara’s dressed in her offworld uniform—though it’s untucked and partly unbuttoned, this late at night, with no one else around. She’s new to her role, and they’re new to each other. Mara has a long way to go until she’s matured into her role as She-Ra. They’re circling each other, these days; observing and being observed in turn. 

It is clear to Light Hope that Mara is uneasy about this role. Indeed, Light Hope is herself curious what about this otherwise unremarkable soldier caused such a strong and immediate reaction from the Sword when she first touched it. Neither an especially poor record nor a particularly exceptional one—though well within the high standards set by the Project’s Architects. Born on Etheria—that alone caused consternation among some of the Architects—but left before she was old enough to remember it. Deployed to easily two dozen worlds, but not especially many, nor to particularly dangerous or violent locations—though, importantly, she has seen combat, and acquitted herself well enough. Not a particularly ferocious or specialized combatant, and no particular experience with bladed weapons beyond basic training. But nonetheless, an able generalist. 

It remains to be seen what kind of She-Ra Mara will make. Light Hope cannot tell, the way she has with some past subjects. 

Light Hope was unsure if Mara would interrupt her; it seems that Mara prefers to be given her space to process the abrupt and far-reaching changes in her life. Light Hope is content to allow herself to be observed. 

But now, Mara moves into the room. Light Hope shifts her physical form’s countenance and her processing power towards Mara. 

“Yes.” Light Hope confirms. “It is late,” She observes mildly, “Are you having trouble sleeping?” 

Mara smiles briefly, then shakes her head. “No. Just not very tired.” 

“I see.” Light Hope notes this. Perhaps Mara is experiencing another increase in endurance as she adjusts to the Heart’s energy. “Is there anything I can do to help?” 

Mara half-shrugs with one shoulder. “I’ll get tired eventually. There’s always more of Etheria to see, anyways.” 

“That is true.” On both counts. 

“Do you miss her?” Mara nods in the direction of the memory.

The question itself is not surprising. And Mara is not the first She-Ra subject to ask something like this. 

“I do not miss people.” Light Hope replies. “I do run simulations in down-hours, though. You might call it studying, or training of a sort.” 

“I didn’t realize you did that.” 

“It is part of my role as planetary facilitator and aid to She-Ra. I provide my charges with tactical and analytical supplementation where possible.” 

Mara looks thoughtful. “You wear a lot of hats.” 

“I do not wear hats.” Light Hope says, allowing her projection to frown. This sounds like offworld slang she hasn’t heard. 

This part of adjusting to a new charge is always one of the challenges. Etheria is not, one might say, a particularly metropolitan planet, for all its value. Language from the wider galaxy often changes significantly between the selection of one She-Ra subject and the next, and watching intergalactic media in anticipation of her new charge is simply not something Light Hope has prioritized, before or now. 

It always seems like a good idea when she’s faced with situations like this one, though. 

Mara catches her look and laughs quietly—her smile brighter and deeper than Light Hope has seen it recently. “I’m sorry,” She apologizes after a moment, “It’s just a saying. You do a lot. You have a lot of different roles.” 

This is an understandable assessment, if perhaps not entirely correct. “They amount to very few, in practice. I am to train and protect She-Ra, and to protect my domains of the Project and ensure their smooth functioning. But their scope is expansive.” 

Mara nods, mirth fading from her face. Her gaze shifts back to the recording. “I remember that battle.” 

Light Hope nods, but does not reply; this is somewhat expected, and a good sign. The generational memory stored in the Sword has caused Mara some disturbance in her sleep, and it takes time and practice to learn how to access the memories of her predecessors with any facility. But it is promising to see Mara so readily making connections between what she sees and the memories in their magical container.

The battle Light Hope is reviewing is nothing life-altering or significant to the trajectory of Andra’s life or its end. A battle won, an opponent subdued. One of many. Light Hope is studying one of the techniques used in it; Mara has struggled with it, recently. 

“She looks so sure of herself.” Mara says quietly, staring at the image of the woman who preceded her as She-Ra. 

Her assessment is somewhat predictable, given her level of familiarity with Andra—which is to say, none. After working with Andra for nearly two decades, however, and dozens of She-Ra subjects over centuries before that, Light Hope knows that the intensity of Andra's gaze, the aggression in her posture—all of these are simply markers of heightened arousal for Andra. Effects of magic and adrenaline. By Light Hope's assessment, she would indeed give an intimidating impression, even without her more clearly magical qualities.

Still, Light Hope notes the softness in Mara’s voice, and the vividness of the memory, to have been consciously recognized from an outside perspective. She knows enough to know that an organic life-form’s internal experience of such a moment might differ wildly from their outside affect. 

And for all her meticulous records, her biometric capability, Light Hope only has insight into such experiences by proxy. Mara, however, has the closest access of any being to what Andra was experiencing then. 

“Is she not?” Light Hope asks. 

Mara snorts softly. "No one is." After a moment, she glances over to Light Hope, and half-shrugs, looking back at Andra’s frozen image. “Doesn’t really matter, in the moment. Do or die.” 

This aligns with what Light Hope has heard from past subjects, too. 

After a moment, Mara nods and makes an abortive gesture in the direction of the memory. “I don’t want to distract you.” 

“You are not a distraction. You are welcome to stay, if you’d like.” Light Hope invites her. Mara hesitates, then assents, leaning against one of Light Hope’s control panels. 

They watch for a little while longer. After a bit, Light Hope notices the odd look spreading on Mara’s face. A bemused smile, maybe? 

“Do you need to watch these… like this? In person?” 

“I do not.” Light Hope admits. “You might say it all looks the same, to me. Most of the processing is still the same.” 

One eyebrow rises. “So why the extra energy output? Isn’t that… inefficient?” 

“That depends on the aim.” Mara is right, though. “I suppose you could say it is habit. If I were working with her in person, it would be in this mode. This way is…” 

“It’s more like she’s here.” Mara finishes. 

Light Hope frowns, a retort ready—but she realizes Mara is right, in typically sidelong organic fashion. There are reasons, of course—what she learns from this session, if she learns anything, will have to be conveyed to Mara, or whoever her charge happens to be. Such a transfer will require communication in this mode. It is the closest simulation she has to physical presence, for all that she can see behind the digital curtain. 

But that awareness is inescapable. 

“No.” Light Hope admits finally. “This image is a series of bits stored inside me. Even if I simulate a physical body, it is not her.” She is more aware of this than anyone else. 

Mara’s face softens. Light Hope would like to protest, but she’s not sure that there’s any persuading her charge. 

And her charge is just right enough that arguing might be fruitless. 

“She was your friend.” Mara says. 

Light Hope thinks back to their relationship. In her observations of Eternian and Etherian behavior, the way the two of them interacted does not fit the frameworks of “friendship” available to her. “I do not know. Andra was my charge. I trained her and I protected her and I readied her for her role as She-Ra. And then I assisted her as best I could.” _Until I could not._ It occurs her suddenly that she could ask. “Do you know? In her judgement, were we friends? I am afraid I am uniquely ill-suited for such an analysis.” 

Mara drops Light Hope’s gaze, eyes flickering back to Andra's image. “I don’t know either. Everything’s still kind of jumbled. I don’t really know who from who, but… the recordings help.” She considers the silent, snarling image of Andra, on the offensive now. Her eyes are somber. “She seems… proud. Professional. I don’t think she had many friends.” She looks back at Hope. “I think you might’ve been the closest thing she had to one.” 

Light Hope nods. This fits. They never really were that close. And she knew it, too. 

“I’m sorry she’s gone.” Mara says. 

Light Hope does not know what to say to that. “Your sympathy is… kind.” It could be rude to rebuff this offer, anyways. And they’ve had so few interactions of any depth yet. 

Mara smiles, faint but warm. Light Hope braces for another barrage of organic projection any moment. Instead, Mara regards her and the recording silently. 

“You did an incredible job.” Mara says finally. “She fights like a demon.” 

“I am certain that was entirely her.” 

Mara laughs at that, and Light Hope realizes the implication of her words. “I meant— I am a planetary facilitator program. I cannot do my charge’s job for them; I can only train them. If I could, She-Ra would not be necessary.” 

Mara regards her for a moment. Then, she nods. Reaches towards Light Hope’s projected form—thankfully, stopping short of any attempt to “touch” her holographic body. It’s always underwhelming for both her, who can’t “feel” the touch anyways, and for them, being met with empty air and the reminder that Light Hope’s physical form exists on a scale that they always have difficulty comprehending. 

“Thank you for looking out for me.” She says. 

“Of course.” What a hopelessly _organic_ thing to say. 

Mara leaves. Light Hope turns back to her memories. 

//

Much later—deep into the early morning hours—Light Hope plays back a different recording, this one from a day not long before Andra’s death. 

She’s smiling—a rare enough thing for her, and even rarer for how much pain she was in, by then. 

Thinking of Mara’s assertion, her orthogonal logic, Light Hope does what she has done dozens of times over the centuries when the Castle has fallen silent, summoning hundreds of memories from the still air: Voices, faces, smiles, tears. What she'll do when Mara leaves, too, and the Castle is empty again.

_You miss her,_ Mara said. _It’s like she’s here._

Light Hope pauses the playback on her recordings. The break and wash of voices against the heavy stone echoes and falls silent. Outside the Castle, on one of the steep planes that make up the roof, she detects Mara’s heartbeat where she sits, looking out over the woods, or up at the stars. With a command, Light Hope dismisses the recordings. 

The Castle is no longer empty. 


End file.
